Spirit of a Jedi
by Obi-Wan'sPadawan
Summary: FINALLY UPDATED! While on a mission, Obi-Wan is captured and sold as a slave. There he is tortured by his owners. Can Qui-Gon find him before the young man's spirit is irrepairably broken?
1. Default Chapter

Another experimental story for you. I only have one chapter right now, but if people like it, I'll write more. And, yes, I know this kind of story has been done before, many times. But this is my outlook on it. Hope you guys like it. Oh yeah, since I only have one chapter, it may be awhile before it is updated again, but don't give up!  
  
  
Obi-Wan Kenobi glanced at his master briefly before exiting the ship. The Jedi Master looked calm, not portraying the clashing of feelings that Obi-Wan could sense inside him. The two Jedi stepped up to the small man awaiting them and bowed their heads. The small man returned the greeting by nodding his head.  
  
"I thank you for coming all this way, Jedi. The situation on the planet is the worst we have seen in more than fifteen years." The man wrung his hands together as he spoke.  
  
"It was no problem," Qui-Gon Jinn answered. Like a true Jedi, he kept his inner feelings inside of him, invisible to those who did not know him.  
  
The man studied Obi-Wan curiously for a moment. "And who are you, my young friend?"  
  
Obi-Wan stiffened a little bit. He wasn't a kid anymore; he was twenty years old. But he also kept his feelings to himself. "I am Obi-Wan Kenobi, Jedi Padawan to Qui-Gon."  
  
"They sent an apprentice?"  
  
"He comes with me wherever I go. You don't get one without the other." Qui-Gon turned toward the man. "And at times a Master/Padawan team is stronger than just a Knight."  
  
"I see." the man answered, though he still looked uncertain about something. "I assume he can protect himself?"   
  
"Very well, actually."  
  
Suddenly the man burst out into a smile. "Good! I had thought they were sending only one Jedi, which put me at a conflict. We have two senators to protect here, and I wasn't sure how it was going to work out."  
  
"Before we go into details, why don't you tell us why we are here," Qui-Gon said.  
  
"Oh! Of course. But I believe we should go inside so that we may sit." The man turned and began to walk toward the street. "Follow me!" he shouted back over his shoulder.  
  
The Jedi followed him through the winding streets of the main city, Genabishu. They had been called to this planet, Domili, on a bodyguarding mission. But upon descent, a dreadful feeling had embraced Qui-Gon. He couldn't help but feel that this mission could be the death of him, or Obi-Wan. He hadn't told Obi-Wan, not wanting to put fear into the young man, but he knew that the astute Padawan could sense his agitation.  
  
After what felt like an hour, they reached the shabby remains of what had once been a proud government building. The sign that was hanging from one corner read " Genabishu Town Hall". The door, once made of clear duraglass, was shattered with the shards scattered around the door. The man, whose name was Abido, opened the door and allowed the Jedi inside. Obi-Wan stood in the reception room and looked aound.  
  
If the outside was shabby, it was nothing compared to the inside. Desks were broken in half, and still being used, most of the employees were either missing apendages or were bandaged, and the walls had chunks missing out of them. Obi-Wan wrinkled his nose at the site. He wasn't stuck up, he just couldn't see how people could live and work this way. Qui-Gon also looked a bit disturbed. They had come on this mission with very little information about what they were to do, so everything they saw and were told was new to them.  
  
"My office is this way, sirs," Abido said, interupting their observations. They walked down an equally shabby hall and into one of the doors that was still intact. When they stepped inside, both Jedi were surprised. They had expected the room to be falling apart like the others. There were a few spots in the wall where they could see the holes that were covered, but overall, Abido had done a good job of hiding the shabbiness. He sat behind his desk, which Obi-Wan could tell had had the legs put back on, and motioned for the Jedi to sit in the two chairs in front of it.  
  
They did, and Abido leaned forward and laced his fingers together. "How much did your Jedi Council tell you about what you are to do?"  
  
"Very little, I'm afraid." Qui-Gon answered.  
  
"Oh, well that isn't like them at all. I met one of your Master's once. A stout little green fella."  
  
"That would be Master Yoda."  
  
"Ah, yes. Funny little fellow. But I difer; about our problems. Our planet recently suffered a civil war, with casualties adding up to half the population. Our cities were destroyed, along with our hope. But two years ago, both sides agreed to a treaty, and we began rebuilding our lives. We set up a new government, with the leaders elected by the people. But one sanction, called the Terasidu, have decided that they don't like it. They have turned to terrorism to try and once again plummet us into war."  
  
"Just because they don't like the government?" Obi-Wan asked.  
  
"Just because they want to cause problems, actually, young Jedi. They have set many bombs, killing more than 200 people and destroying many buildings. This building was bombed only three weeks ago. With the damage from the bomb and from damage from the war, it was very unstable and one wing collapsed. Thirty people died, including my brother."  
  
"So let me get our facts straight. Your planet was recovering from a civil war when this terrorist group just decided to start bombing you?"  
  
"Yes. We have found out that the leader is Daji Hosuu. He was a special ops during the war, so he knows what he is doing. That is all we know; no motive, no hideout, and no statistics on the group."  
  
"And what do the senators you spoke of have to do with this?" Obi-Wan asked. Qui-Gon smiled to himself. His Padawan was asking all the right questions.  
  
"They came here to help with the rebuilding, but the Terasidu have threatened their lives. They are Magis Sutar, of the Nebuva system, and Gerri Jonz of the Haped Cluster. There were helping to rebuild a school when a suicide bomber tried to run at them. The bodyguards stopped him, but he killed them both by detonating the bomb. Fourteen other people were injured, and one poor boy had to have an arm amputated."  
  
"They use suicide bombers?" Qui-Gon inquered.  
  
"This was the first incident we had with a suicide bomber. But there have been a few more that have happened."  
  
"How so you know he was with Teradisu?" Obi-Wan leaned forward.  
  
"A holo. Daji knows that we know that he is the leader. So he put a datachip in a fire/blast proof container. Would you like to watch it?"  
  
Both Jedi nodded. Abido reached in a drawer and pulled out what looked like a child's lunchbox. He popped it open and pulled out a small chip. He placed the chip in a holo player and activated it.  
  
A small, six inch tall figure of a man appeared. He looked to be very compact, but not very tall. His head was shaved and he had a tatoo of a kryat dragon on his arm. He was sneering.  
  
"Abido! If you are watching this, than it means that the senators are probably dead. Poor fellows, all they were trying to do was help." His smile only widened. "My bomber did a very good job, did he not? Good man has a place in the afterlife. But anyway. Just to let you know, we are not done with you yet. By the time we are done, only a few of your corrupt men will be able to crawl to my feet to beg for their lives. But fear not, Abido. You will not die, at least not yet. I will need you for a while." With that, the man gave a mocking salute and the holo cut off.  
  
"Not a very good speaker is he?" Qui-Gon said after a moment of silence.  
  
"No, but somehow he is able to round up support." Abido sighed and ran a hand through his hair.  
  
"What did he mean that he will need you for a while?" Obi-Wan asked, turning to the mayor.  
  
"I don't know. But it does scare me." 


	2. Chapter Two

Nearly an hour later, the Jedi were walking down one of the shabby main roads. Occasionally they had to sidestep a huge pothole. The Jedi had not spoken since they had left the mayor's office. Obi-Wan walked obediently slightly behind his Master's left, and Qui-Gon kept his eyes on what was in front of him. Qui-Gon stole a glance as his Padawan. Obi-Wan was now twenty years old, and had grown into a very handsome man. Maybe too much so for his own good. Girls they met on missions had become a distraction for him, be it that he was looking at them, or they were following him. Obi-Wan's brown hair had lightened slightly, and now stuck up in the front. Only his eyes held on to a bit of his youth.

He had passed into manhood, almost.

"Our board is over this way." Qui-Gon pointed up the road. Obi-Wan nodded.

"I hope its not falling apart as well."

"That is very unlikely." Qui-Gon glanced around the city and sadly shook his head. "Shame. Some of these buildings seem as if they were once very beautiful."

"It is a shame. A civil war that killed half of the population, and then just as the survivors think there will be peace, this starts." Obi-Wan looked down as he stepped over another pothole.

"It is."

Obi-Wan shook his head. "How can people live like this? I know that I couldn't."

"Nor could I, but it is all that some know. They don't know anything but hate and war."

"I couldn't live like that." He looked around again. "These people deserve peace. Everyone does." He sighed. "But there will never be total peace in the galaxy."

"But there will be Jedi to fix what they can," Qui-Gon said, placing a hand on his Padawan's shoulder. Obi-Wan allowed a small smile, but kept his thoughtful demeanor.

The Jedi managed to get to their rooms half an hour later. They could've gotten there sooner, but they'd had to detour around a collapsed building. They'd also passed countless homeless families. Obi-Wan, in his pity, had given one young mother a coin from his very sparse supply. He wished he could do something for all of them, but there were simply too many of them. _This is why this planet needs us,_ Obi-Wan thought to himself as he and Qui-Gon stepped into the building that hosted their rooms.

They walked up to a shabby desk in the middle of the main room and Obi-Wan was very aware of the groan of the durasteel beneath his feet. He was afraid the whole floor would collapse.

Qui-Gon approached the nearest employee of the small boarding house and explained who they were. The man smiled and happily told them that he had saved some of his best rooms for them. He gave them keys, told them where to go, then wished them the best of luck.

As they walked away, Obi-Wan turned to Qui-Gon. "What was he wishing us luck on? That the floor doesn't give way beneath us while we sleep?"

Qui-Gon let out a small laugh. "No, Padawan. He just means good luck in general. In life."

Obi-Wan nodded. "But I do hope the floor holds."

Qui-Gon shook his head, amused at the mood his Padawan was in. "I'm sure it will. The buildings are a bit more stable than they seem." He pointed ahead. "Our rooms. Yours is on the left, mine is on the right." He handed Obi-Wan two keys and took two for himself. "Now I can get into your room, and you can get into mine. Just in case."

Obi-Wan smirked. "In case of what, Master? You going to sweep for deathsticks and women?"

Qui-Gon shot his Padawan a reproachful look, the proceeded to unlock his own door. Obi-Wan did the same and stepped into his room. He nodded as he looked around the door. Aside from the creaking floor, small holes in the wall, and the lack of a ceiling in one small area, it was actually a nice room. It was like a small apartment. Obi-Wan had his own kitchen (the appliances were broken, of course), his own 'fresher, and bedroom. This wasn't so bad, he decided. It could have been worse.

Qui-Gon also found his apartment adequate. His ceiling had quite a few more holes, but he didn't care. Hopefully no one would get the room above them. He set his bag down, then turned to check on Obi-Wan's room. He ran into Obi-Wan in the hall. Obi-Wan had been leaving, pulling a cloak on when he ran into his Master.

"Where were you going?" Qui-Gon demanded.

"I was going to check out the city, Master. Just to get an idea of what is going on with the simple people. You know, get a feel for the place, as you say."

Qui-Gon nodded. "Alright. I was going to suggest that anyway. You take the east and north sides of the city, I'll take the west and the south. We'll meet back here at dark. Tell me anything suspicious you see, but do not take any action."

Obi-Wan nodded. "Yes Master. I know."

"You'd better. Go now, get a head start on me."

The Padawan bowed his head, then took off down the hall, still pulling the cloak on. Qui-Gon watched him go, then turned to grab his own cloak from his bag.


	3. Chapter Three

Obi-Wan sidestepped a beggar on the roads. He wasn't greedy, he just didn't have anything to give, as Jedi did not get money. The beggar's cries still reached his ears even after turning a corner, but still the Jedi knew he could do nothing. So, instead he kept walking, though he did quicken his pace. He kept his senses alert, checking for anything way out of the ordinary.

He learned to not like this place already. There was just far too much pain and suffering here. They overloaded his senses, making him feel almost the same as the people he could sense. He wanted to shut of his senses, shut it all off, but he couldn't. He shook his head. Would this place bother a normal person this much? Or was it only the Force-sensitive that were bothered?

He rubbed his temples. Something was giving him a splitting headache and he couldn't figure out what. Perhaps it was all that he was sensing, or something in the air. He couldn't tell. But he desperately wanted it to stop.

He stepped around a corner, still rubbing his temples. He almost rammed straight into a guy's back, but his instincts helped him stop dead in his tracks, inches from the man. The man turned around and saw Obi-Wan, who had already started to back up and walk away. Before Obi-Wan could do anything, the man had snatched him up by his neck, where he hung, inches from the ground.

The man laughed as Obi-Wan vainly tried to loosen his grip. "Ha!" he said, tightening his fist around the Jedi's neck. "Gotcha, didn't I, little thief?"

"No!" Obi-Wan tried to say, but it only came out as a gasp.

"Tula," a voice said behind the big man. The man turned to look at the speaker. A woman with long black hair stepped forward and peered at the struggling boy, who was now beginning to see spots. "Down, Tula," she commanded.

The man smiled and released Obi-Wan. He fell to the ground, where he struggled for breath. Still breathing heavily, he looked up at the woman, who was walking circles around him.

"Do you know what the penalty is for theft here on Domili?" she asked with a purr in her voice.

"I'm not a thief. I was just walking and I almost ran into this man," Obi-Wan tried to explain, indicating Tula.

"Likely story, boy." She shook her head as she peered at him. "From the low levels, I suppose. Trying to take whatever he can to feed his spice habit, most likely."

"I don't have a-" Obi-Wan began.

"Silence!" Tula shouted at him, whacking him in the temple with his fist. Obi-Wan fell over, groaning in pain.

The woman kicked the bottom of his boot. "He looks healthy enough, don't you think?" Tula nodded. "Yes, very healthy. A little underfed, but I think that applies to most of us.

Obi-Wan looked up at her from where he lay on the ground. "What does that have to do with anything?"

Tula replied by reaching down and picking him up again, this time by the back of his tunic. "How much?" he asked the woman.

She smiled. "Oh, I don't know. Let me see him. Hold him, though." Tula nodded and lowered Obi-Wan to her level, but not releasing him. She proceeded to look over Obi-Wan, checking his eyes, ears, hair, and even his teeth. Only the knowledge that that Tula character would pound him if he resisted kept Obi-Wan from fighting back. "How old are you?" the woman asked, brushing her hair away from her face.

Obi-Wan narrowed his eyes at her, but sighed in resignation when Tula gave him a violent shake. "Twenty."

"Hmm...A little old for proper training, but he is one of the healthiest rats I've seen in a while. I'd say he's worth about fifteen."

Tula smiled. "Fifteen? That's more than we got for those four kids."

"Yeah," she said, poking Obi-Wan's muscle, "this one is more capable of work."

The truth of what these people were finally dawned on Obi-Wan. "Wait! You can't -" He was silenced when Tula threw him down onto the ground. He scrambled to his feet and faced them. "I am Obi-Wan Kenobi. I am-"

"Not anymore," the woman said, leveling her blaster at him.


	4. Chapter Four

Qui-Gon's hand went to his head. He'd felt a sudden pain that made no sense to him. All he was doing was sitting on his sleep-couch, reading local news and waiting for his Padawan to return. He rubbed his temple, then realized that the pain seemed foreign, not a part of him. That could only mean one thing; Obi-Wan was hurt.

He quickly stood up, tossing the news-holos to the floor. He quickly pulled on his boots and rushed out of the room, calling mentally to his Padawan as he did so.

__

Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan, where are you? What's happened? There was no answer. This could either mean that Obi-Wan wasn't hearing him, he was too far away, or that Obi-Wan was unable to reply. Qui-Gon didn't like any of those possibilities. He approached the front desk of the ruined hotel.

"Excuse me, I was wondering if my Padawan had come back anytime today."

The man behind the desk arched an eyebrow. "Your what?"

Qui-Gon sighed. "I am Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn. I came here with my apprentice, Obi-Wan Kenobi. I was wondering if anyone had seem him lately today."

"Oh! You guys are the Jedi." He turned to speak with a woman next to him, who shook her head at whatever he asked her. "I'm sorry, sir. No one has seen your young friend come back in. Kreta here saw him leave about four hours ago, but he hasn't come back."

Qui-Gon turned to look out of the shattered glass door. "It's dark," he said idly.

"Yes sir. It does that."

Qui-Gon shot the man an angry look. "I'm going to look for him. If you see him come in, tell him to contact me."

"I will do that, sir."

Qui-Gon nodded, then rushed out of the entrance hall, not paying attention to the man's warning about not running. He stepped out onto the street and froze. Where would he start? He had no clue. Obi-Wan could have been anywhere in the city.

__

Obi-Wan, where are you? Answer me if you can! Still no answer. Reaching out with the Force, Qui-Gon searched for Obi-Wan. He found nothing.

***********The first thing that Obi-Wan felt when he woke up was the cold, damp ground. He groaned and tried to sit up, but collapsed. He groaned again as he hit a sore rib on the ground, but once again tried to sit up. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust, and when they did, he saw that he was in what looked like a large box. He could feel it shake underneath him, telling him that they were moving. 

He turned his head around, then jumped at the sight of another person. After he settled down a bit, he saw that it was a girl, not much older than he. She had a weathered look to her, but stared down at him with concerned eyes.

"_Mya con ochia_?" she asked.

Obi-Wan frowned in confusion. "What?"

She smiled. "Oh good, Basic. I wasn't sure what you spoke. I asked, how are you?"

He lifted an eyebrow. "I'm not sure. Where am I?"

"You're on the _Ukia_."

"The what?"

"_Ukia. _The slave transport."

"Slave?" Obi-Wan rushed to his feet, then had to steady himself against the wall.

The girl put a hand on his shoulder to steady him. "Yes. We call it _Ukia_. What the ship's name really is, no one knows. No one is ever conscious of getting on, except me. And I can't read."

"Why can't you read? No one taught you?"

She shook her head. "No point in teaching a slave to read. All I do is housework and show the new slaves around."

"New slaves?" Obi-Wan put a hand on his own chest. "_I'm_ a slave." The girl nodded. "I...uh...but..." He buried his head in his hands, trying to think, but his brain seemed to have shut down on him. He groaned.

The girl smiled sympathetically. "Yeah, it's kinda confusing at first for most. They don't even know how they got here most of the time. Some don't even know who they are." She studied him for a moment. "You're different than most of them who are brought in. You're in a lot better shape. Most of the slaves brought in were street rats."

Obi-Wan shook his head. "I'm not a street rat. I'm not even from Domili. I'm a Jedi."

The girl arched an eyebrow. "Jedi? That's a first. What's your name?" she asked, suddenly changing the subject.

"Obi-Wan Kenobi," he said idly as he began to inspect the wall of their box. He ran his hands across it, searching for a door, but couldn't find one.

"I'm Arlin." She watched him for a moment. "If you're looking for a way out, then you won't find it. They make sure of that. It's up there," she said, pointing to the ceiling, which was a good twenty feet above them.

Obi-Wan frowned. "I've got to get out of here and find my Master."

"You can't get out. Sit down, you're going to wear yourself out. And believe me, you'll need all the strength you have when we reach Liskil."

"Liskil?"

"The planet our master's home is on."

"I can't leave Domili! My Master is in Genabishu. He'll never find me now."

"Forget about your old master. You have a new master that you will serve. His name is Ryask, but don't ever speak his name where he can here you. You'll get four lashes for that."

Obi-Wan sank down to the floor. "Alright, I'm still kinda confused about what's happened to me. Could you maybe straighten things out?"

Arlin smiled. "Sure, I can do that. Well, from what I heard, you were caught trying to steal some of Tula Hereas' things. He caught you. Tula belongs to a group of 'headhunters', slave hunters. They search the streets for anyone they can nab, then they sell them to anyone willing to buy. I heard you sold for seventeen thousand. That's the most I've ever heard of for one person."

"And why don't I remember any of this?"

"Tula's gang catches slaves by shooting them with a specialized blaster. It stuns and kinda shuts down your mind. You can still move, but you don't think, so you don't remember. They do that so you can't act up in front of buyers. It wears off after a while."

"So I was drugged?"

"Somewhat, yes."

Obi-Wan shook his head again and stuck his head in his hands. He felt as if he had lost all hope.


	5. Chapter Five

"What do you mean that no one in the city has seen him?" Qui-Gon shouted angrily at Abido the next day. "You have holo cameras all over the city, and not one of them shows a twenty-year-old Jedi walking around?"

"I could check again, but sir, that is a lot of cameras to go through. We have no idea what part of the city he was in, and the hotel does not have a camera by it."

"Check them again. I have to find my Padawan. If he is not found, the Jedi will pull me out of this mission, and you will be worse off than before."

Abido held up his hands. "Alright. I will get more people to scan the holos. Do you perhaps have a holo of the young man, for those who don't know what he looks like?"

Qui-Gon nodded and reached for a small holo projector on his belt. He flipped it on, and a holo of a younger Obi-Wan appeared. Qui-Gon flipped through holo after holo until he finally reached one taken a few days before the pair had left for Domili. It showed Obi-Wan turning towards his Master as he was getting into a starfighter, a smile on his face. Qui-Gon stared at it for a moment, wondering if he would ever see the real Obi-Wan again, or if the holos were going to be all that he had.

Abido watched the large Jedi for a moment. "We'll find him, Master Jedi. Or we will catch the son of a gundark who took him."

***********

Obi-Wan jolted awake suddenly from his restless sleep. Something was different. The ship had stopped, he realized. They were where they were supposed to be. Where he would meet the man who had purchased him. He turned to look at Arlin, but she had here gaze fixed on the ceiling.

A grating noise caught Obi-Wan's attention, and he too looked up at the ceiling. Light had appeared in the middle of the roof, and was steadily growing bigger. It was a door, he realized. He could also hear footsteps above them and men shouting orders. He stood up and stared up at the light.

A figured appeared above him, blocking out part of the light. He seemed to look down at them for a moment before motioning to others out of Obi-Wan's vision. Then, there were suddenly half-a-dozen figures blocking the light, and were dropping cords down into the box.

The men slid down the ropes and came to a rest feet from Obi-Wan. He instinctively took a step backward and raised his hands into a defensive position. The man in front of him raised his hands.

"Calm down now. We don't want to hurt you. You're much too valuable for that. Cost our boss too much. We're just going to take you out of this place so you can get processed." He took a step forward and Obi-Wan hunched back a bit, ready to lash out if the man tried anything. "Don't make this hard," the man said, nodding.

The Force warned Obi-Wan a second before. A man behind him lunged with what looked like a syringe. Obi-Wan dodged, but there were too many men. He felt a sudden pain in his neck, then nothing. He didn't even feel it when he fell to the floor. He could watch the men as they gathered around him, but couldn't will his body to move. Nor did he really want to. For some reason, he felt very content.

The first man stepped into Obi-Wan's view. "Good stuff, ain't it?" He turned to another man. "Let's get them out of here."

***********Qui-Gon stared out of a window at the ruined city of Genabishu. It pained him to know that Obi-Wan could be out there, hurt, and he not know it. It hurt even more to know that Obi-Wan could not be out there, and Qui-Gon wouldn't know where he was. Footsteps behind him interrupted his thoughts. He turned to see who it was.

Abido froze when the Jedi turned. He had just been about to knock on the doorjamb, but the Jedi seemed to already have heard him. He scratched his balding head. "Master Jedi, we've found something. But uh...you might want to come and watch it yourself."

Qui-Gon nodded, a sinking feeling in his stomach. He followed Abido through the crumbling streets into the town hall. He was led into what looked like a conference room, although it was missing a whole wall on one side. Abido motioned for him to sit, which he did.

The small man cleared his throat. "I had my people look through the holos, as you asked. One man found this," he said, pushing a button on the table. A holo-projector flipped on in the middle of the table, showing what looked like a busy street. With his sharp eyes, Qui-Gon caught an image of his Padawan walking down it. Nothing seemed to be wrong. The image then shifted, showing what looked like was around the corner of the first street.

Qui-Gon watched as his Padawan nearly collided with a big man, then as the man picked up Obi-Wan by the throat. The man put him down, and Qui-Gon watched as a woman stepped forward and shot his Padawan in the chest with a blaster. His heart dropped to his stomach as he watched Obi-Wan crumble to the ground.

Abido turned the holo projector off and turned to Qui-Gon, who had now buried his face in his hand. "We don't believe he is dead. Our police force recognizes the man as Tula Hereas. The woman is Yulia Misk. They're slavers, Master Jedi."

Qui-Gon looked up at him slowly. "Slavers? My Padawan has been captured by slavers?"

"I'm afraid so. This certain group uses a specialized blaster to drug their victims. They probably took him to the underground slave markets."

Qui-Gon stood up. "We must find them. They are the only ones who will know who has Obi-Wan."


	6. Chapter Six

Obi-Wan was only vaguely aware that he was being lead through a dim hallway. He didn't remember leaving the ship, nor entering any building at all. He recalled hitting a wall a few minutes before, which seemed to have been what snapped him out of his stupor. He shook his head to clear it, though the attempt was futile. Whatever he had been given seemed to linger in his veins.

One of the guards glanced at him and smiled. "Hey, I think he's coming out of it."

The other guard laughed. "Yeah. He's coming down." They laughed, then continued dragging the Padawan down the hall. They suddenly turned and kicked a door open, roughly shoving Obi-Wan inside before slamming it shut.

Obi-Wan hit the cold floor with a thud, getting the air knocked out of his lungs. This seemed to bring him a little further out of his stupor, but he still could not completely clear his head. He managed to stand up, leaning against a wall for support. Then the world around him began to spin and he threw up what little he had in his stomach.

At that moment the door opened, and a man walked in to see the young Jedi trying to catch his breath. The man looked down at the mess and shook his head. "Why do so many of them do that?" he asked himself as he stepped further into the room, flanked by two large men.

Obi-Wan looked up at him slowly, trying to make out a face. The man smiled. "Not bad, considering what I paid for him." He turned to another man and was handed a datapad. "Now, if you are able to answer my questions, do so. Disobedience will not be tolerated. Now, what is your name? For my records."

Obi-Wan took a deep breath. "Obi-Wan Kenobi," he said, coughing violently afterwards.

The man nodded. "You are how old?"

"Twenty standard years."

The man nodded again, his smiled widening slightly. "Good. Feeling any better? No? Yes? A little?"

Obi-Wan looked up at him, able to clearly see his face for the first time. He was an older man, with speckled gray hair and a distinguished looking face. "What did you do to me?"

"I'll ask the questions here. But I will answer that, since it has a great deal to do with your future, if that's what you can call it. We gave you a concentrated and specialized dosage of the spice Metacanosol." He grinned. "Yeah, we drugged you up. But no matter, it's designed to...how should I put it...escape. All of my slaves get it. It's what keeps you from running away."

The man began to pace around the room, looking up at Obi-Wan every once in a while. "Some men are known to use an explosive transmitter. But I think a dead slave is no use to me. You can always recapture them. I use drugs. Get them addicted, so that they can barely function without it, and they'll stay put. And I can guarantee that they'll never find this drug anywhere else."

Obi-Wan shook his head. "I don't use spices. How can I get addicted?"

The man laughed. "You don't have to already be on spice to get addicted here, silly boy. For a few days we'll give you a dose. After that, you'll be more than happy to do a day's worth of hard work just to get your daily fix." He laughed again and nodded to the larger men. They stepped forward and each grasped one of Obi-Wan's arms. "Send him to Quad CF2. Rough him up a little and shoot him up." The men nodded, then drug Obi-Wan out of the small room.

Obi-Wan gave up struggled rather quickly, knowing that it would only get him a hard cuff in the face it he did anything. He simply hung his head as his feet drug the floor, calling on the Force to keep him strong. The men put him in a small hovercraft and put servocuffs on his hands, binding them to the railing of the hovercraft itself.

One of the men smiled vindictively and waved as the hovercraft began to rise seemingly on its own accord. It took Obi-Wan up to a higher platform, where another man was waiting for him. This man roughly grabbed the short chain between servocuffs and pulled Obi-Wan after him. He approached a door, opened it, then shoved the Jedi in.

Unable to keep his balance without his hands, Obi-Wan once again found his face on the floor. He groaned and tried to pick himself up, but a rough kick to the kidneys had him back on the ground, gasping for breath. He looked up and saw yet another man standing over him, grinning.

His Jedi training finally kicking in, Obi-Wan swirled around on his back and scissored the man's legs, causing him to crumple to the ground. The man lay there for a moment, then looked back up at the Jedi with a look of rage. A splitting pain suddenly erupted in Obi-Wan's head, but the man in front of him hadn't moved. Instead, the backup man had used his boot to kick the back of his head.

Obi-Wan once again met the floor, smashing his nose harshly against it. He could feel the warm blood pouring down his face, and it only seemed to egg on his attackers.


	7. Chapter Seven

Qui-Gon felt a small shiver run through his spine as he stepped off of the lift. Getting directions from 'squealer' he and a undercover police officer had made their way down to a low level of the planet, home to the prosperous slave market. _Obi-Wan was in here, just yesterday_, Qui-Gon thought to himself as he adjusted his cloak.

He saw the policeman tense beside him. The police of Domili had been searching for months to locate this market, and now this young man was here. Qui-Gon could tell that he was itching to pull out his badge-card and begin arresting everyone he had servo-cuffs for.

Qui-Gon leaned down toward him. "I know you want to put these people behind bars, and I promise that you'll get to do that. But not today, please, not today. I need to find some information about my Padawan, and if you begin busting sellers, I may never find him. So I'm asking you, can you wait? You know where it is now, so it would be no problem for you to come back with backup."

The young man, who was called Tesial, nodded. "Yes, Master Jedi. I can wait. My assignment today is to help you in your search for your Padawan, and I will do that."

Qui-Gon nodded and clapped a hand on the man's shoulder. "Good. Thought I'd be able to rely on you. Now," he said, scanning the crowded market. "We have to find this Tula character and find out where Obi-Wan went to."

He motioned to Tesial, and began walking down the crowded alley. On both sides, auctions were pending, deciding the fate of a poor slave. Qui-Gon witnessed a small girl being auctioned off, and he had the sinking feeling that none of the men bidding on her would treat her anywhere near decently. He shook his head, wishing he could teach the men a lesson with his lightsaber, but restrained himself. Soon he passed another tier with a young woman who was roughly seven months pregnant. The price was very high for her, with the aspect of getting two slaves for one on every bidder's mind.

All of this made Qui-Gon feel sick to his stomach, and he knew then that Abido had much more work to do on his planet than he ever thought possible. Qui-Gon pulled himself away from the heartbreaking sight of a young boy being pulled away from his mother, and nearly bowled into a young woman. She glared at him with dark eyes, that shone with a little curiosity.

"You watch it, ya Wookie!" she snapped. She studied Qui-Gon for a moment. "You looking for something?"

"Yes, actually I am."

"What? Male, female, adult, child?"

"No, I'm looking for a specific person up for auction here. His name is Obi-Wan Kenobi. I heard that a man named Tula had captured him yesterday."

The woman arched an eyebrow. "What do you want with him?"

"Well, my friend was in here yesterday, and said that he was a fine specimen, ideal for farm work. I'm in need of some assistance, so I figured, why not come here?"

The woman nodded, then thought for a moment. "Let's see, what did Tula have yesterday? He had a Dresselian, an Ithorian, a woman, a set of twins, and a young man. Was this Obi-Wan a human?"

"Yes. She said he was a male human, late teenage years perhaps. Lightish brown hair with blue eyes?"

The woman thought again, then nodded. "Oh yeah, I remember him," she smiled, "and boy was he out of it. Like the kid's never had spice before. Yeah, anyway, he's gone. Tula sold him yesterday for seventeen thousand credits. If you're still interested in him, you could contact his new master and make him a good offer."

"Who bought him?" Qui-Gon asked, his heartbeat increasing as he digested the information of his Padawan's 'sale'.

"Oh, I don't know that offhand. But I could get the information for you. Follow me," the woman said, turning around and making her way through the crowd.

**********************

For the second time in two days, Obi-Wan found himself waking up on a cold floor with a splitting headache and aches all over his body. He looked down at where he had been laying and saw a small pool of dried blood. His hand went to his lips, where he found dried blood caked around them. He groaned and sat up, taking a look at his surroundings.

He was in a circular room, with no windows and no door that could be easily seen. He shook his head. They were attempting to break him by messing with his mind, but he knew that there was some way out. He would just never be able to find it. They just wanted him to stress trying to find it.

He gingerly wiped his mouth of with the sleeve of his clothes, then realized that he was no long in his Jedi tunic. He was now dress in what looked like a green mechanic's suit. He grimaced but finished getting the blood away from his mouth.

He then shook his head, trying to clear the fuzziness with no avail. At first he thought they had drugged him up again, but then he realized that this was a different feeling. It was just the normal fuzz that you get after being beaten. Just the normal pain and stiffness.

He glanced around the room once more, checking for any signs of life. He found none. So he simply sat in the middle of the room, calling on the Force to begin to heal his battered body. But for some reason, he found it very elusive, with a void in some areas. He frowned, having lost his connection completely.

It was a very weird feeling for him, not having any connection to the Force. It had been a part of his life since he was a child. Now it was just gone, leaving him truly alone. He shivered and pulled his knees to his chest, feeling as if a sudden chill had swept through the room.

He sat like this for hours, trying and trying to get a grasp on the Force, but couldn't find it. Then a part of the wall suddenly swept open, allowing several large men to enter. Obi-Wan groaned inwardly; he knew they were here for a free-for-all beating of him. Not willing to go down without a fight, even though he didn't have the Force, he jumped to his feet.

He caught the first man's fist in his hands, ignoring the pain, and slammed the palm of his hand into the man's nose. He howled in pain and stepped back. From the corner of his eyes, the young Jedi saw another man stepping up behind him with a electro-stick. He swung it at the Jedi, trying to paralyze him. Obi-Wan leapt into the air as high as he could, then landed in a crouch and kicked the man's feet out from under him. He caught the electro-stick and spun it around as if it were a two-sided lightsaber and jabbed the first man in the gut, sending him to the floor.

He felt a rough kick to his back, and flew forward into the wall. He felt a heavy weight behind him, and felt the man grasping his hands behind his back, rendering him nearly defenseless. The young Jedi struggled to free himself, but the man was far too strong. The second man stood up again, a stony expression on his face. He retrieved his electro-stick from off of the ground and approached Obi-Wan. Then he smiled, jabbing it into the Jedi's side.

For a moment, everything went white for Obi-Wan. This was followed by a blinding pain that seemed to spread from his side to every part of his body. He gritted his teeth as the pain wracked his body, unwilling to cry out in pain. Finally the pain lessened, and he fell to his knees in relief. Or would have, if the man was not still holding him up. He was hit again with the stick, this time being allowed to fall to the ground, where he was promptly beaten with hands and feet while the effects of the electricity lingered.

He was barely aware of a new man entering the room. "Enough," he said, kneeling down next to the Jedi. Obi-Wan's face was covered in blood, and his eyes were slightly out of focus and glazed. "We don't need you to kill him. Just rough him up." The man examined Obi-Wan for any major injuries, and found a broken rib. He shrugged it off, knowing there was nothing he could do about it and that it may actually play to their advantage.

He rolled the Jedi onto his back, then quickly turned him on his side again when he began coughing up blood. The doctor frowned. Perhaps the men had gone too far with this one? It wouldn't be the first time. Obi-Wan calmed after a moment, and the doctor nodded, reaching into his pocket for a syringe and a vial. He pulled the substance from the vial and injected it into the young man's neck.

He watched as Obi-Wan's body trembled slightly, then calmed. The last bit of consciousness seemed to leaved the Jedi's eyes, and he simply lied there, finally feeling no pain.

The doctor nodded and stood up. "This may work out for you. He has a broken rib, which is very painful. Put him to hard work and he'll be begging for the Metacanosol."


	8. Chapter Eight

****

Thanks so much to those that have reviewed. You guys truly are the ones who pulled this story away from the jaws of the Recycle Bin.

Obi-Wan sighed and leaned against his shovel, weary with hours of non-stop work. Although there were many, more effective, methods of building a trench, the guards watching him thought it would be better if the slaves had to dig it by hand. Obi-Wan felt as if he had already shoveled about two hundred pounds of dirt out of the trench already, and the sores and blisters on his hands proved it. It's not that he wasn't accustomed to hard labor, the young Jedi just wasn't familiar with work being used to break a man down.

He wiped a hand across his brow, his hand coming away wet with mingled blood and sweat. It was bad enough to have to work in the smoldering heat, shoveling endless mounds of dirt, but they were also lashed if they stood still too long. He'd taken quite a few hits himself over the course of the day, leaving deep welts in his back, and a few had hit him in the face. He frowned and winced as he bent over again, his poor back protesting. 

One of the guards, riding a massive four-legged beast Obi-Wan had never seen before rode up behind him. He studied the Jedi's work for a moment. "Better hurry, you'll need to dig at least three more feet before the days end, which is in about an hour."

Obi-Wan had to bite his tongue to keep from saying something that might get him another lash to his already tattered back. He also had the feeling that the guards were being extra hard on him, lashing him for no reason. He nodded to the man, the continued to monotonously shovel the dirt.

******Qui-Gon pulled his cloak closer around him as he followed the young woman through the dirty streets of the slave-market. Frustration was building inside of him, despite all he tried to do to dispel it. Seeing all of these people enslaved illegally, but no being able to do a thing about it tore at his heart. His eyes fell upon a teenage boy, standing on the raised dias of the auctioneer. The boy turned and met Qui-Gon's eyes for a moment. In them, Qui-Gon saw so much pain and hopelessness that he forced himself to look away.

The feelings of this place were beginning to wear down on him as well. All of the despair flooded his senses, making it hard for him to figure out where their feelings stopped and his began. He tried many times to push everything out of his mind, but he always knew that Obi-Wan had once been one of these people. Obi-Wan had stood on one of these daises only a day before, being scrutinized by beings that could never appreciate him for who he was.

"We're actually one of the few slavers that keep a record of who we sell and to whom. It makes it easier to keep track of what money we should have and what slaves should still be in our possession."

Qui-Gon nodded as the woman spoke, trying to seem interested and act like an actual customer. "Tell me, how did this boy come into your possession? I'm told that he looked much healthier than some of the beings I see for sale here."

The woman smiled. "That one was quite a catch, he was. The kid ran into Tula, and Tula was able to grab him before he could run. We knocked him out, then brought him here. Once we had him stunned, he was pretty easy to handle. Though I think that we wouldn't have been able to handle him very well if he was fully awake. You see, Tula had to go back out onto the streets, looking for more rats to capture. So I don't we wouldn't have much luck getting the kid sedated enough to sell."

"You got a good price for him, did you not?"

"Yeah, seventeen thousand. Better than we've done in a long time." She smiled again. "I hope you can match or beat that if you want to buy him."

Qui-Gon shrugged, trying to calm the rage welling up inside of him. "Who knows? Maybe I could strike a deal with his owner."

The woman nodded, then turned into what looked like a large tent. There was only one other being in it, a dark-skinned male of a species Qui-Gon had never seen before. He looked at Qui-Gon and Tesial for a moment, then turned to the woman.

"What's this, Yulia? Not new slaves, I'm guessing, for they wear no restraints."

Yulia shook her head. "No, Yisul. These men are looking for the records of a sale. Give me your datapad," she commanded, which Yisul quickly obeyed. She turned the datapad on, then looked up at Qui-Gon. "Oh, I forgot to mention. Information has a price as well."

Qui-Gon narrowed his eyes at her. Yulia felt a shiver of fear run down her spine, but kept the man's gaze. Finally the large man sighed. "How much?" he asked, reaching into a pouch on his belt.

"I'd say about four hundred credits. This is a business here. We've got ourselves and slaves to feed."

Qui-Gon shook his head, but handed her the coins anyway. She studied them for a moment before nodded. Then she handed Qui-Gon the datapad. "There, it's all there. All the information we had on him.

Qui-Gon nodded and began to read:

Subject # 459-842-233bi

Race: Human

Sex: Male

Approx. Age: 20 standard years

Captor: Tula Hereas

Other notes: Sold to Mille Escalo for seventeen thousand. 

Qui-Gon frowned, then selected the underlined name. A whole new page of information appeared.

Mille Escalo

History: has bought 14 slaves from us in the past two years.

Location: Uliniish City, Halbered.

Qui-Gon nodded as he digested the information. Halbered was a planet only half a days travel from where he was. If he was lucky, he could make it on-planet before dark. Enough time to search out his stolen Padawan. He turned to the woman. "I thank you. You have no idea how much this will aid me."

******Obi-Wan threw himself onto his thin cot wearily, immediately regretting it when the open wounds on his back met with the rough blanket. He sat up and tried to feel the wounds with his hands, but there were far too many. He shook his head. He hurt all over. His rib, evidentially broken, had taken his breath away a few times while he was working. And the constant lashing and tearing of his back only made things worse.

He rolled over until he was lying on his side, the one position that did not set his back aflame. He wanted to sleep, but the murmur of the other slaves' conversations prevented this. They were all sitting calmly on their cots in the large room, some glancing anxiously at the door. Most had fresh sweat covering their faces, and others wrung their hands in anticipation. One man could not keep himself from tapping his foot loudly on the ground.

The door to the slave quarters then opened, allowing a small man and four others to enter. The doctor carried a bag with him, while the other men carried boxes filled with something that Obi-Wan could not see.

The noise level of the slaves immediately heightened, with all of them talking excitedly and anxiously. Obi-Wan arched an eyebrow, wondering what these people possibly had to wait for. His questions were answered when the doctor pulled out a syringe and several small bottles. He began injecting the liquids in the slaves arms, then moving on to the next eager slave.

Obi-Wan's heart sank into his chest. _Metacanosol_, he thought. _These people actually look forward to this time of day, just so they can get their spice. Their whole day leads up to this._ He shook his head and closed his eyes, trying to shut out all of the noise from his mind. He had almost succeeded when he felt someone kick his boot. He slowly opened his eyes and looked up at the doctor.

"I don't want any," he said, closing his eyes again. He heard the shuffling of footsteps and assumed that the doctor had moved on. But he suddenly felt a piercing pain in his leg. His eyes flew open and he reached for his leg, grasping the trembling hand of the doctor as he did.

He looked down at his leg, seeing the empty syringe sticking out of it. Then he looked up at the doctor, who smiled as he pulled the syringe and his hand from Obi-Wan's weakening grasp. "Everyone gets it," he told the young Jedi. "Especially you."

Obi-Wan wanted to tell the man something, but couldn't remember what it was. In fact, he was beginning to forget everything. His whole life had gone white again, and he felt as though he were floating, his pain long left behind.

__

What have I gotten myself into? was his last thought before he passed into a void.


	9. Chapter Nine

****

Ok then, here is the next chapter. I had a minor case of writer's block for a while there, and tonight it just magically disappeared. Read and enjoy!

Qui-Gon rubbed his temples as he sat on the bench. Two weeks. _Two weeks_ and still nothing. It had been two weeks since his Padawan had been kidnapped, and Qui-Gon was no closer to finding him now than before.

The information given to him by the slavers about the man who had purchased Obi-Wan had turned out to be incorrect. But whether the error was in the slavers or the owner, Qui-Gon didn't know. It made perfect sense for the purchaser to give false information, in case the datapad was seized by police officials. 

So Qui-Gon had run into a dead end. He'd gone back to the slave market to try and hunt down the woman again to get the correct information, but she had been nowhere in sight. No one else there had seen her either. She had either run from something, or had gone out to capture more innocent people.

The Jedi looked up as a shadow blocked the sun. It was Tesial, who looked down at him with a grave look on his face. For two weeks, the officer had stayed with Qui-Gon in his search for Obi-Wan, even coming to see if he could help on his off-days. Qui-Gon turned to him as the young man sat down next to him.

"You don't have to help anymore, you know. Everyone else has given up," Qui-Gon said sadly, knowing how true it really was.

Tesial shook his head. "I can't."

"And why is that?"

Tesial looked at him, his eyes pained. "Because I know what you're going through." He sighed and stared out at the ruined city for a moment. "I know exactly how you feel," he said, not turning back to Qui-Gon. "I know what it feels like to lose a son to these people. I had a son too. His name was Kyle, and he was four years old. He was taken, kidnapped, by those...people." He turned back to Qui-Gon. "We never found him. It tore me and my wife apart. She blamed me for not doing enough."

Qui-Gon nodded. "I see."

Tesial smiled and turned back to the city. "So I have to find your Padawan, so another person won't have to feel that same pain. It's unbearable."

Qui-Gon didn't answer, but stood up. "Well," he said after a moment, "I haven't given up on him. So, let's go find him."

****************************************************************

Obi-Wan leaned his head against the dirt wall when everything suddenly started to spin. He struggled to catch his breath, knowing that if he paused for too long he would have a new scar on his back from the whip. His vision slowly cleared, but he knew that something wasn't right. Something hadn't been right since he had come to this horrid slave camp.

He, like most of the older male slaves, had been sent to digging a trench that would allow water from a river to flow into the crop fields. Each slave was required to dig at least thirty feet of trench four feet deep by the end of the workday, or else face the wrath of the guards. 

The slaves also risked not getting their daily dose of spice, which pained some more than others. Obi-Wan had fought the drug with all his will, but found that its power was far beyond is control. Once in his body, he couldn't make the drug go away or lose its effectiveness. And once the drug cleared itself out, Obi-Wan found himself in constant pain, yearning for more. He hated this, but could not find a way to get out of it.

He stared up at the sun for a moment. How long had he been here? More than five days, more than ten days. About two weeks, he guessed. He scoffed. Great, only two weeks here and already they had ruined his body. Inside and out.

Two weeks of harsh treatment had not been kind to the Padawan, though he fared better than some. His back was covered with slowly-healing gashes from the whips, with some already scarring. His broken rib had refused to heal in any kind of way, becoming a constant source of pain for him. 

But he could look around him and see those that would not last the rest of the week. Some had been here for some time, and harsh labor along with the drugs had taken a terrible toll on their bodies. But they were still sent out to work, day after day.

__

You'd think he would want to keep the slaves alive to get the most out of his money, Obi-Wan thought to himself as his head cleared. He shook his head as he began to shovel more dirt. He just didn't understand these kind of people...

****************************************************************

Qui-Gon frowned as he looked around the market. Once again, his heart was torn to see the faces of the slaves up for sale, but he knew that he couldn't do anything about it. Not without compromising his Padawan. Once he had Obi-Wan back, the police could come in and arrest everyone for all he cared. Just as long as none of the poor souls here had to go through what Obi-Wan was going through.

He felt a now-familiar pang in his heart when he thought of his Padawan. It had taken him far too long. His Padawan had been a slave for far too long. What if Obi-Wan thought Qui-Gon had given up on him and lost hope? It would break his spirit and tear him apart. Obi-Wan thrived on his strong spirit, which gave him the ability to bounce back from whatever happened. _But if it was broken, would Obi-Wan even be recognizable?_

Qui-Gon shook his head. _Obi-Wan will be alright. He'll be alright, _he told himself over and over as he searched the crowd for the Yulia woman who had given him the incorrect information. He had walked the entire distance of the market four times before he stopped. The woman was not here. He frowned and stared blankly into the crowd.

A tugging on his tunic caught his attention. A young woman stood beside him, he head down. "Excuse me, sir. Are you looking for someone? I've seen you walk past three times already."

Qui-Gon smiled. "Yes, I am looking for someone. Perhaps you know where they are?"

The girl looked up at him tentatively, revealing tired grey eyes. "I may know," she said nervously.

__

She's a slave, Qui-Gon realized. _And she's afraid she'll offend me._ "I'm looking for a woman named Yulia. She's a slaver that sells here a good bit."

The girl thought for a moment, then shook her head. "She's not here today. She's gone off to Coruscant to see what she can round up there." She glanced around her nervously. "My Master was very disappointed. He was hoping she'd caught more boys like the one he bought a few weeks ago."

Qui-Gon's heart stopped at the girl's words. "He's bought from her recently?"

"Yes. He buys from her all the time."

"Do you know if he's bought a twenty-year-old human male named Obi-Wan Kenobi recently?"

The girl's eyes widened. "You know him? I mean...yes, he did buy an Obi-Wan. More than two weeks ago."

Qui-Gon reached and grasped the girl's shoulders, but then released her when he saw her flinch. "I'm not going to hurt you. What's your name?" he asked gently.

Her eyes darted around, as if searching for someone lurking in the shadows. "Arlin. Master Escalo is my Master. I've been in his service since I was very young."

Qui-Gon smiled. Perhaps this was the break he had been searching for. "My name is Qui-Gon Jinn," he leaned closer to her, letting her know that what he was telling her was secret and meant only for her ears. "I'm a Jedi Master. Obi-Wan is my Padawan apprentice."

Arlin smiled sadly. "So he was telling the truth about that." She shook her head. "It's too late for him now. He'll already be half-dead by the time you'd get to him, if you're lucky."

"I _need_ to find him. Please, will you help me?"

Arlin chewed on her lip for a moment, her eyes trained on the crowd. "I don't know what help I could be, but I'll do what I can. Obi-Wan doesn't deserve this. No one does," she added quietly.


	10. Chapter Ten

****

Whew, it's been a while, hasn't it? Many apologize. A little something called 'real life' got in the way of my writing. Along with something call the ACT. Have any of you guys taken it? It sucks...

Anyway, back to the story. This chapter turned out kinda long, so I hope it makes up for the hiatus I took. Enjoy!

Obi-Wan grimaced again as the whip sent fire across his back. He gritted his teeth, trying to prevent himself from doing something that he would later regret. If he missed his daily fix-

He shook his head. _I don't need it. I don't need it, _he told himself, though it was getting harder and harder to believe. Just getting by the daylight seemed to get harder and harder every day. His body would begin to ache around noon time, and by the time the sun set he was almost in agony. It took every bit of will he possessed to make it back to the barracks at night. Most of the time he just wanted to lie down in the trench and die, but that wasn't an option. He was too expensive for the slavers to let him die.

He glanced at his hands as he reached down to pick up the shovel. Once, his hands had been strong and graceful. Now they were worn and torn. His arms bore the marks of whiplashes, as well as the bruising and discoloration from the drug injection. He idly rubbed his forearm, not wanting to feel the needle penetrate again, but knowing that it would. Knowing that, deep down, he needed it. No matter how many times he told himself, the yearning was still there.

He sighed heavily and picked up the shovel, preparing to begin another long day of needless toil. He had long lost count of the days he had been enslaved; every day seemed to last an eternity. But he knew that it had been a while. Not as long as some, but a good while. Too long. He looked up at the sky, where the sun was just now beginning to light the navy sky. _Where are you Qui-Gon? Have you forgotten about me?_

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Qui-Gon glanced at the girl next to him as the ship entered the atmosphere. She sat stiffly on the chair, idly rubbing her forearms. She had begun to sweat, and seemed very jittery. Qui-Gon leaned over and put a hand on her shoulder, causing her to jump.

"Is something wrong?" he asked, genuinely concerned for the girl.

She nodded, though her eyes were wide. "Yeah. Something's always wrong. It's been wrong since I was sold to my Master." She looked up at Qui-Gon. "I ran away from him, you know. I felt like I couldn't stay there any more." She turned back to the wall. "But I have to go back. I have to."

"Why? Why do you have to go back? You're free. There's no scanners, no trackers in your body." Qui-Gon frowned. Why would the girl be so keen on going back if her life as a slave was obviously so miserable?

She stared at the wall, her eyes slightly glazing over. "I have to go back. I need it. If I don't have it, I'll slowly wilt away." She looked up at him suddenly, her eyes ablaze. "I've seen it happen. You just slowly fade away until you're nothing."

Qui-Gon frowned, taking his hand from her shoulder. "What? What do you need?"

She shook her head. "You ask the question, but you already know the answer."

Qui-Gon nodded slowly. "Drugs," he said quietly, turning to glance out the viewport at the void of space. 

A short time later, the ship docked at a small landing pad by a lake. Arlin's rubbing of the arms increased dramatically; obviously she knew that they were close. Qui-Gon thanked the pilot of the ship for the ride, then asked if he would stay for a while, until he returned. He had to fetch a good friend of his who was in trouble, and the Republic would more than likely reimburse him for wages lost. The man agreed, but said that it would be an honor to help the Jedi.

Qui-Gon put a comforting hand on Arlin's back as he and the girl made their way to the small building near the lake. According to Arlin, only the man in the house knew how to get ahold of her former Master. Qui-Gon was to claim that he was returning the runaway, and would then search out his Padawan.

Qui-Gon rapped on the door quickly, then stepped back, adopting a serious expression, befitting a man returning a slave. Some shuffling could be heard inside the shack, and a moment later, the door was thrown open. A human male with a stubbly beard threw open the door, peering at Qui-Gon with blood-shot eyes.

"Yeah?" he asked gruffly.

Qui-Gon gestured to Arlin with his hand. "I seem to have stumbled across a runaway. She says that her Master resides on this planet."

"Oh?" the man said curiously, peering at Arlin. "Oh! I recollect that one. Fine catch she was." He grinned, peering at her in a way that made Qui-Gon uneasy.

He shifted to the side, 'accidentally' blocking Arlin from view. "Do you know where I can take her?"

The man nodded. "Yeah. I'll call for him. He'll be mighty happy to have that one back. She was pretty reliable, ya know?"

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Obi-Wan rubbed at his eyes as he sat down for mid-day meal. His eyes were irritating him a lot; it felt as though tiny needles were poking at them constantly. He sighed, recognizing it as a sign that his body was beginning to crave the drugs.

He shook his head, feeling the tension build up in his body. He felt restless, as if the space he was occupying was too small to accommodate him. Normally, he would have simply called upon the Force to help calm himself, but the Force had seemed ever elusive for the past few weeks, days, years, however long he had been there.

He clenched his fist shut, glancing down at the sandwich that was supposed to serve as his meal. He grimaced and turned away from it, staring into the sky. It was a lovely blue, cloudless and bright. It was almost as if the day itself were mocking him. He sighed, then glanced down at the meager rations again. He remembered, though it seemed so long ago, the Temple food. Everyone got all they wanted, and it always tasted great. What he would give to have one meal and one decent sleep in the Temple...

He shook his head. There was no going back to the Temple. Even if by some miracle Qui-Gon came for him, what good was a ruined Padawan? His body and mind had been ravished by the drug, leaving him weak and vulnerable to darkness. He would most likely never again be able to fit into the rigid Jedi Code. He would be cast aside, into a 'protective' environment, allowing the Council to watch over him carefully. The last thing they wanted was a drug-addicted, former Jedi running around with darkness clouding his judgment. 

Shouting from down the lines caught his attention. He looked up slowly as he searched out the noise. Some guards down the line were shouting at another slave. The man was cowered on the ground, his hands protecting his face. Obi-Wan could only catch bits and pieces of what they men were shouting, but he did catch words like 'filth' 'luggage' and other degrading names. 

Obi-Wan's blood began to boil when he realized that the poor man was just the target to relieve the guards' boredom. He evidently had done nothing wrong, just been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Obi-Wan knew that he should stay where he was, just eat his lunch and go on with the day. But when the guards began to beat on the innocent man, he knew that he would not be able to take it. _I may be a ruined Jedi, but at least I can still help someone. And most likely I will die because of it, but that's better than wasting away..._

He stood, his whole world focused on the guards who remained ruthlessly beating the slave with their boots. He made his way over to them, his eyes set. One of the guards turned, mid-laugh, and noticed Obi-Wan standing a mere foot from him, fists clenched and jaw set.

He smirked, stepping away from the other men. "What do we have here? Come to defend your little friend, boy?" He smirked and turned to look at the other guards, who had also stopped their beating to glance at this new slave. "What do you say we teach him to mind his own business?"

The other men grinned, standing up and taking in Obi-Wan's size. "Just a kid," one man said jokingly. "I might feel bad about beating up a kid." He laughed, then nodded to the other men. Simultaneously, they all stepped forward, towards Obi-Wan.

The first man lunged, trying to get a grip around the younger man's throat to help immobilize him, but Obi-Wan ducked deftly and lashed out a foot at another guard. His thin boot hit soft stomach, and he was rewarded with a gruff "Oof!".

Obi-Wan grinned to himself, then pivoted to duck another blow from the first guard. The guard frowned. "Feisty one here. You got something to prove, boy?"

Obi-Wan nodded gravely. "I have to prove to you that I am not just property. I am much more than that." He held out his hand to indicate the other slaves. "As are the rest of us."

"Boo hoo," the guard mocked. "You're breaking my heart." He stepped closer to Obi-Wan. "You know what happens to vigilantes like you? Eh? Dead. All of them. We just beat the hell out of you, then send you to the boss. Not sure exactly how ya'll die, but I know it's bad." He turned and nodded to someone behind Obi-Wan. 

The young Jedi turned, and stared right into the barrel of a blaster. During the brief scuffle, another guard had seen what was going on and come to aid the others.

Obi-Wan gave him a small smile. "Hope you feel good about yourselves. You've managed to subdue a single slave with four people and a blaster. Bet you feel high up right now." He sighed, then closed his eyes, accepting defeat and waiting for it all to end.

He heard a snarl, then felt a blinding pain in his head. He fell to the ground, only vaguely aware of the new shouts of alarm that erupted from the ranks. A familiar _snap-hiss_ noise reached his ears, though he was quickly losing to the darkness that beckoned him. He closed his eyes and let the darkness take him, only to open then again some time later.

Everything was fuzzy, but he could still make out the worried face of an older, bearded man. "Obi-Wan?" a voice asked, genuinely concerned.

Obi-Wan frowned, really wanting nothing more than to sleep again. But that voice...he knew that voice...Qui-Gon?

He felt a strong hand on his shoulder. "It's alright, Obi-Wan. I've got you now. I'll get you out of here."

Obi-Wan smiled. Out of here sounded great. But where would they go? Surely he couldn't go back to the Temple? He shook his head gently, then succumbed once again to unconsciousness.


End file.
